


Don’t Look at the Moon

by PsychedelicShips



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Character Death, Eventual Happy Ending, Food mention, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Patton is sad, Prinxiety - Freeform, Swearing, Temporary Character Death, deceit is a villain, logicality - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24775444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychedelicShips/pseuds/PsychedelicShips
Summary: Virgil had been caught. He had stolen from a wealthy lord, and now he was to pay the price. The punishments for thievery were dire. Virgil could either be hanged or be sent away to do something no one has ever come back from: kill the vampire that lived in an old castle in the middle of the woods. Hoping to survive, he chooses the second option. But Virgil finds something more than just a vampire in the woods.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The entire work will have mention of death, swearing, blood, graphic depictions of injury, and food mentions

Virgil climbed the roof of the governor’s house, his feet soundless on wooden shingles. All he needed to do was get some food, maybe even some coins. His mother was dying, and Virgil had to help her. She knew that he was a thief, but she didn’t know who he stole from. If she did, his mother would surely die of shock before Virgil could give her the food and gold he took from the wealthy.  
He had stolen money and food from right under the governor’s nose before, and he could do it again. Virgil slid through a window that had been left open by a servant, rolling onto the floor soundlessly. All he had to do was get to the kitchen, which would be a floor down and right underneath him. A servant or two might still be up, but they were the least of Virgil’s concerns. The guards were much more dangerous, but he had already gotten past them once tonight, albeit without any incriminating stolen goods.   
The only light in the huge house came from the occasional oil lamp hanging from a wall, casting long shadows through the hallway.   
Virgil knew his path, and he knew where the creaky floorboards were. He turned left and descended the servant’s staircase, skipping the third step which he knew would make too much noise. He hopped over the last step, which he knew would be laid with mouse traps to catch the rodents and amateur would-be thieves. But Virgil was no amateur and knew exactly where to step to avoid any noise that could get him caught.   
A candlelight shone at the end of the hallway, and Virgil pressed against a corner, his black cloak hiding him in the safe, comforting shadows as a servant passed by without a spare glance. Virgil could tell by the apron she wore that she was the cook, most likely heading off to bed. This was going to be easier than Virgil thought!  
He crept without a sound toward where the servant had come from. Toward his prize. To the kitchens.   
A locked wooden door was all that separated Virgil from what could be his mother’s saving grace. There would be plenty of food in the pantry, and maybe even a punch of coins the cook had left lying about. He quickly took out his lock pick, and the door swung open with a small click, the only sound Virgil would allow. He slunk in like a shadow and lit a match for light, not daring to use a candle, for the bright light could give him away.   
Virgil spotted what he was there for- a small leather pouch lay on the counter. He picked it up to look inside, and Virgil also gasped out loud. There must have been about a hundred coins in it! But Virgil knew better than to take the whole thing- instead he scooped out a handful and put the stolen gold in his pocket, putting the bag where he found it.   
The match in his hand started to burn out, but Virgil decided he still had time. The pantry was close, and it would only take him a minute to take some bread, right?   
The pantry was stuffed with every kind of food Virgil could imagine- fruits he had never seen before, countless meats wrapped in brown butcher’s paper, vegetables in all shapes and sizes, and even different kinds of bread. Why nobles needed so much food while people like Virgil and his mother were starving, he never knew.  
Virgil was too busy looking for what would be the most inconspicuous thing to take that he didn’t hear the creaking floorboards until it was too late, and the cook was shouting.  
“Thief! Thief! Guards, help!” She screeched as Virgil stumbled, trying to get away before he was caught or worse, the light of her lantern too bright on Virgil’s face, casting shadows that were no longer comforting.  
He tried to run towards the window to escape, but the cook picked up and knife as a pair of guards appeared outside.  
“Get the thief!”   
More guards seemed to appear every second, some pointing their weapons at Virgil, others moving to grab him, pinning his arms behind his back. The grim reality of what just happened to him sunk in. He was caught, and he would sit in a jail cell until he was sentenced to die, and his mother would either starve or die of her sickness. The guards grabbed the bread from where Virgil dropped it and searched him, taking the stolen coins out of his pockets. Virgil watched as they clattered to the wooden floor, the lantern light glinting off each piece of gold that could have helped his mother but was being used instead to stuff a greedy nobleman’s stomach with fine food.   
“Please,” Virgil whispered, not intending for anyone to hear it, but the guard on his left whispered back.   
“Sorry, kid. It’s my job.”  
As the guard dragged him out of the kitchen and away from everything that could have helped his mother, Virgil couldn’t seem to breathe. The guardsmens’ weapons poked into his back, probably drawing blood that would stain his cloak.   
The governor’s house looked so different when lanterns were lit throughout the hallways, illuminating his face for the onlookers that had gathered to watch Virgil be paraded out of the house and into a cell.   
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the governor. His ugly face stared in disdain at Virgil, as if he was no more than mud the governor had spotted on his shoe while the governor’s fat mouth sneered at him as Virgil passed.   
The next few minutes passed in a blur- Virgil was dragged out of the house and down the road into the jail, which coincidentally, the governor also owned. The only thing Virgil remembered seeing was his mother’s face in the crowd that had gathered to watch the apprehend thief.   
His mother watched in shock and sadness, her moth-eaten shawl draped around her shoulders.  
Virgil wanted to tell her that he was sorry, that he should have been more careful, that he should have listened and stopped stealing from the rich.   
Virgil was only shaken from his thoughts when three guards shoved him into a cell and closed the barred door. He lay in a rotting haystack, replaying the minute he had gotten caught over and over again. He hadn’t slipped up- his only mistake was not making sure the cook was really asleep before he snuck into the kitchen.  
Virgil closed his eyes and drifted off into a dreamless sleep, but not without wondering what would happen to him in the morning.


	2. Two

The morning came, the sunlight shining through the barred window. Virgil woke up while being dragged out of the cell by different guards than the ones that had thrown him in last night and brought forcibly into a large stone court room. The windows were too high to see anything but the sky, and they too were barred. Sitting on elevated stands were around a dozen grim faced men in black robes. In the center, slightly in front of them was a figure with silky smooth, chestnut hair and a pale, pointed face. He stared beadily down at Virgil as his black combat boots echoed around the otherwise silent room. Hands cuffed behind his back, Virgil was forced into the seat directly in front of the court, and the pointed faced man spoke.   
“Virgil Crowe. Is that your name?” The judge asked.  
“Yes,” Virgil said, his head hanging down, not daring to make eye contact with someone who could hang him with a wave of his gavel.   
“Yes sir. I will not tolerate disrespect,” the judge sneered. Virgil bit back the remark, “there’s no need to call me sir,” knowing that nothing good would come out of it except a small moment of satisfaction, and simply nodded.  
“Mr. Crowe, you are charged with three accounts of theft- you stole food and coin from Lord McNamara, food from Lord Chandler, and attempted thievery from Governor Duke. How do you plead?”   
Virgil knew that no matter what he said, he would be killed, so he told the judge “guilty,” and prayed for a quick death.   
“Very well. Now, as I am a merciful man,” Virgil tried not to scoff, “I shall give you two options.”   
There was a pause. Virgil couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was he really going to be given a choice in the matter?   
“Virgil Crowe. You may either be hanged in the morning, or be sent into the woods to perform a noble quest to exterminate the vampire that has plagued this town for years. If you succeed, you will be cleared of all charges and rewarded very handsomely. Your failure, however, can only end in death.” There was a ringing silence in the room. Virgil actually looked up, shocked. Did this usually happen to captured criminals? He looked back down and contemplated his options, not knowing how long they would allow him to think.  
He had rarely gone outside of town due to the warnings of vampires.   
If he took the quest, his death was more than likely. But on the off chance that he succeeded, he’d be free! He could go back to his mother! Ultimately, it was a choice between certain death, and almost certain death with a chance of freedom. It was terrifying to think about, but the best decision was clear.   
“The quest.” Virgil said, with as little fear in his voice as he could manage.   
“Very well. You will be given a week’s rations and a map to lead you to the vampire. You will start the quest in two days time. Until then, you shall stay imprisoned. Adjourned,” the judge slammed his gavel on the wooden sounding block and the guards took Virgil away once again.   
At least Virgil knew he would not be flogged or stoned or any of the other terrible ways he had imagined himself dying. The only thing Virgil was uncertain of was whether he would be able to say goodbye to his mother. That’s all he wanted- make sure his mother knew that he was sorry and that he loved her.   
There was nothing in Virgil’s cell to keep his thoughts away from the vampire he would be sent to kill. Virgil had heard stories about the unholy bloodsucking monsters from the other children as scary stories. He had never quite believed the full extent of what the older children had told him- that vampires would drain his blood, tearing his head off his neck to drink a fountain of red. That they could only be stopped by the sunlight or a cross. That they were undead creatures of the night that would kill him before Virgil ever saw them coming.   
But now Virgil tried to recall every story he had been told- the story that Elizabeth had sworn was true, about the one where her uncle had been kidnapped and turned into one of the long-fanged monsters. What was her uncle’s name again? Timothy? No- Virgil remembered- Terrence Williams, the baker that had gone missing. Virgil hadn’t known him, as he had supposedly been kidnapped about twenty years ago, a couple years before Virgil had even been born. Virgil thought it much more likely that a wild animal had broken into the bakery or something, but now that Virgil was about to be sent off to kill a vampire, he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to remind himself of the story Elizabeth had told one year at the town’s annual bonfire.   
She had said that one night, when she was very young, Elizabeth and her father heard a noise coming from the bakery, as they had lived right next to it. Her father went over to investigate what the terrible shrieking noise was, and he saw something he never recovered from- her uncle was screaming and lying in a pool of shimmering red blood as a figure stood over him, sucking out his blood and drinking it. The figure turned around and saw Elizabeth’s father and fled, taking her uncle with them.   
Of course, Virgil doubted that was what really happened, mostly because it came from Elizabeth, who was known for exaggerating stories, but Virgil needed everything he could to be prepared for his hunt. He tried to recall everything he had been told about those creatures- from old wives tales, to the warnings his mother told, to the exaggerated stories the older children used to tell to frighten Virgil and the younger kids. He just hoped it would be enough.


	3. Three

The morning had come for Virgil to be sent off. It seemed as if the whole town had come to watch him be sent into the woods on a quest that would probably get him killed.  
But the only face Virgil cared about was his mother’s.   
“Virgil!” He heard her call out. “Let me say goodbye!” She shoved past the guards that lined the pathway Virgil was being escorted down. Virgil held his ground as the guards attempted to make him keep walking.   
“Mother,” Virgil cried. “I’m sorry, I should have listened, and I know I messed up. I’m going to come back, I promise.”  
“Virgil, all I want is for you to stay safe. I love you,” she hugged him. Virgil wanted to hug her back, but the guards shoved his mother back into the crowd and forced Virgil to keep walking.   
“I love you too, mother,” Virgil whispered, not even loud enough for her to hear. He turned around once more, trying to catch one last glimpse of Maddison Crowe, but she was swallowed by the crowd that had come to see Virgil be sent into an incredibly likely death.   
”Virgil Crowe, ” the governor announced, glaring at Virgil. ”You have been found guilty of thievery, and be hereby sentenced to stake the vampire that lives in these woods and has terrorized this town for decades. If you are seen in this town again without ample proof that you have done the deed, you will be hanged. You will be given ample supplies for your noble quest that must be completed in order for you to return. Are your instructions clear, Virgil Crowe?”   
”Yes, ” Virgil muttered, barely loud enough for the governor to hear him. Virgil was handed a backpack of food, a roughly drawn map of the woods, and a vampire hunting kit, which contained a cross, a wooden stake, and several vials of holy water, all things which were said to be able to kill vampires.   
The guards led Virgil to the path that would lead him to the center of the forest. It was mostly used by merchants traveling from town to town, but it also led through the woods. Virgil felt the stares of hundreds of eyes watching him as he walked down the worn path, his heart pounding as every step took him closer to the confrontation of a nightmarish creature.   
Eventually the well-travelled merchant path gave way. Now the only path Virgil could find in the dense wood was an overgrown animal path. Virgil followed to the best he could, but he lost the path before it was even midday. Despite the sun overhead, Virgil had trouble seeing in the dense woods, the sunlight filtering through the branches of trees casting ominous shadows on the ground. Several times, Virgil thought something-or someone- was following him. But it was all in his head, right? There wasn't anything in the woods that could hurt him yet! He was still close to the town, still able to catch a glimpse of the flag blowing in the wind on top of the highest church spire.   
Sometime later, perhaps minutes or hours, a crunching noise shook Virgil out of his thoughts. He looked around the woods, searching for the source of the noise. To his left, Virgil spotted a deer, standing still as one of the statues that decorated the town hall. Virgil would have been comforted by the sight of the animal, had it not been looking somewhere else, it's eyes wide and ears pointed toward the noise. Virgil followed it's gaze deeper into the forest, trying to catch a glimpse of what the doe saw that made it so frightened.   
He felt his hand creep toward the vampire killing tools he had been supplied with, pulling out the wooden cross.   
It was probably nothing. But just in case, Virgil tried to reassure himself that there was no threat as he glanced up at the sun. He swore as he saw how low on the horizon it had set, turning the sky a deep shade of red that only reminded Virgil of the blood the vampire would steal from him. Virgil looked back at where the deer had been and watched as it ran off.   
More branches cracked, and Virgil tried in vain to find what was making the noise. He stepped backward, attempting to put distance between himself and the unknown threat. His back hit what he thought to be a tree, but before Virgil could turn around, he felt an arm wrap around his throat and choke him.   
“What are you doing here?” A voice behind him asked.   
“Please,” Virgil gasped. “Let me go. I’ll tell you anything you need.”   
“Seriously? You’re not going to struggle? I thought this would have been more fun,” the pressure around his neck stopped and Virgil could breathe again. He turned around, gripping the wooden cross he had been given.   
A shorter figure stood in front of him, a hood over their face that revealed nothing but their smile.   
“So tell me,” they said, stepping closer to Virgil. “What are you doing all the way out here, in the middle of the woods?”  
What did Virgil say to them? Should he lie and say that he was lost? Did he tell them that he was going to kill the vampire? They would never believe him, but what if the figure in front of him was one of the terrible creatures? Would Virgil be bled dry before he even made it to the old castle?   
“Oh, I see,” the cloaked figure took the cross out of Virgil’s hands before he even saw them move. “You’re here to kill us.”  
Us? What did they mean by that? Unless- no, no! He hadn’t come across a vampire already!   
No, they weren’t a vampire! They could hold the cross!   
“What do you mean- us?” Virgil worked up the courage to ask, realizing that he would not like the answer.   
“Easy. I’m also a vampire. And yeah, I’m holding the cross. Wrong religion, pal.” The figure glanced at the moon Virgil hadn’t realized had come up. They took off their hood, revealing someone with purple hair who looked to be just a little bit older than Virgil. “And the boss knows you’re here, so he sent me to take you to him. I’m Talyn, by the way.”  
Talyn grabbed Virgil’s arm, and in a blur, Virgil wasn’t standing in the woods anymore.  
He stood at the gates of a castle overgrown with ivy and bushes, his heart beating faster and faster as he realized what was about to happen.   
He was about to meet the apparent leader of the vampires.  
The one he was sent to kill.


	4. Four

There was nothing Virgil could do as the rusted, ivy covered gates squeaked open and Talyn escorted him in. Vigil expected to be met with the stench of blood, cobwebs in every corner, and maybe even a few corpses or skeletons to complete to look.  
But instead of a gory entrance hall, what Virgil saw was actually… quite nice. The grand hall’s ceilings were so high that his entire house could fit in it at least three times. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting shadows along the walls where hundreds of paintings hung.   
Virgil almost forgot that he was about to die, until he saw a figure descending the huge marble staircase. Virgil paled at the sight of him, his red cape dragging on the polished steps with a grin on his face.   
Even from where he stood, Virgil could see the glinting fangs in the man’s smile- no, not a man. A bloodthirsty monster was what he was, nothing close to human.   
“Hello, Talyn. I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble?” He asked as he reached the bottom of the grand staircase.   
“No, not at all. Quite easy, in fact,” they laughed, and Virgil couldn’t help but look at their fangs while they spoke.   
“So,” the vampire looked at Virgil. “What kind of terrible crime did you commit that got you sent here to kill me?”  
Virgil stuttered in fear for a moment before finally replying, “I-I stole. For my mother.”  
His answer seemed to surprise the vampire. “Well, that’s a new crime. We normally get sent murderers and whatnot. I really hated those guys.”  
What did he mean by ‘getting sent’? Did this happen often? How many people had the vampire standing before him killed?   
The vampire laughed. “Don’t look at me like that. So, you didn’t kill anyone? You didn’t even try to murder someone?”  
“N-no! I wanted to help my mother!” Virgil defended himself. He didn’t want to kill anyone- except for the monster standing in front of him, and only because he wanted to help his mother stay alive despite her sickness.  
“Well, this certainly complicates things. How about we discuss this over dinner? Normally we just send the crazy murderers back to their village after they’ve coincidentally lost a bit of blood, but you’re not a bad person, just a good person in a bad situation. Despite the lies you’ve been told, we aren’t going to kill you. We have never killed anyone, not even for blood. And you can’t go back to your home, not while your governor is in charge. Please believe me.”   
“Why can’t I go back? All I want to do is to help my mother, and if she dies because I haven’t killed you, then it’s my fault,” Virgil tried to get his arm out of Talyn’s grip, but they were too strong.   
“Shit, you’re cute and you have noble intentions! And if the governor sees you without my head, he’ll kill you, and I much prefer being alive, and I think you would, too.”  
“But you’re dead!” Virgil ignored what the vampire had said about him.  
“Well, I mean technically, but you don’t want to tell Logan that, unless you want him to go on a really long lecture,” he laughed. “Now, you must be hungry, so how about I give you a room and I’ll have someone call you for dinner? What’s your name?”   
“My name- my name is Virgil.” He said hesitantly. Were vampires like the faeries, who could do whatever they pleased when they knew your name? He had no idea, but Virgil couldn’t think how things could get much worse.   
Who was Logan? Were there even more vampires in the castle? Virgil had thought he would have been able to use more of his protections he had been given, but if there were more than just Talyn and the one standing in front of him, Virgil knew he was dead, even if the vampire hadn’t been lying about not killing for blood. He would be turned into one of them, existing forever with the urge to kill for blood.   
Virgil didn’t want to think about what the vampires might eat, and where it would come from (Virgil thought he might know where- himself). What kind of room did the leader mean? Virgil felt it would be safe to assume it would probably be something like the jail cell he had left- hard it really been just today? Had it really just been a few days ago when he was caught stealing from the governor’s kitchen?   
“Alright, Talyn, can you show him a room? Maybe next to Patton and Logan? Don’t let Remus near him yet, you know how he gets,” the vampire instructed them.   
Talyn nodded, gesturing for Virgil to follow. With no other choice, he obeyed.   
“Wait,” Virgil stopped. “You know my name, but what’s yours?” He didn’t expect an answer, so was surprised when the vampire replied.   
“Roman Prince, at your service,” he grinned, sweeping into a mock bow.   
Talyn led Virgil down a dimly lit corridor, Virgil watching every shadow move across the walls as if something- or someone- was just out of his sight, the uneasy feeling in his stomach never easing.   
Talyn opened a door and showed Virgil inside, and he was surprised to find that it wasn’t the kind of dreary dungeon he had expected. Instead, it had the biggest bed Virgil had ever seen- who needed a room that big, let alone a bed?- and his closet-sized room in the village could have easily fit into the room several times over.   
Virgil must have been staring around the room, because Talyn spoke up, “he’s not bad, you know. None of us are. We only want to live here in peace.”


	5. Five

Virgil hadn’t been able to become comfortable despite the chair he had pushed in front of the door, not expecting it to do much against a vampire, but a security measure nonetheless.   
Virgil hadn’t taken his eyes off the door since he shut himself in. He looked in the pack he had been given and counted the rations he had been given- enough for a few days if he spaced it out. He supposed it would have to be enough until he found some way to escape. The hunting kit he had been given was still nestled safely in his bag, the vampires not bothering to search the pack, probably too confident in their abilities to dream that Virgil would escape. Did vampires even dream? Nevertheless, Virgil was still determined to escape the castle, preferably without having any of his blood drunk by the creatures roaming the halls.   
Virgil hadn’t dared to sleep or even close his eyes for long for fear someone would break down his door- perhaps an irrational fear, but a fear anyways.   
Virgil had just begun to think it was all some kind of fever dream when someone knocked at his door.   
“Hi kiddo! Roman sent me to tell you that you should be ready for dinner soon! Virgil, right?”  
Virgil was suddenly confronted with another problem. Did he answer the vampire outside of the door, or did he ignore them in hopes they would go away?  
“Kiddo, I know you’re in there, and I know you’re trying to ignore me.”  
Well, shit. The second option was slowly fading from probability for Virgil.   
“I know you’re afraid, but I will swear on whatever you want me to that I won’t hurt you, or let anyone else hurt you.”   
Virgil slid off the silk-sheeted bed and walked over to the chair that blocked the door.   
He considered for a moment, before replying. “What’s your name?” he asked, voice barely audible from behind the oak door.   
“Oh, right! My name is Patton! And this is Logan, my husband,” Virgil heard a quiet ‘greetings,’ from behind the door. “So anyway, kiddo, it’s time for dinner, and you don’t have to be afraid. Nobody here wants to hurt you.”  
Liar. All you want is to kill me, drain me, so you can all feast like animals, soaking yourselves with blood, Virgil thought. But despite his better judgement, he answered the vampires standing outside his door.   
“You swear that no harm will come to me while I am in this forest?” he asked, choosing his words carefully. One could never be too cautious, especially with creatures of the woods. He knew a boy, once, who made a deal with the fae. They made the faerie swear that they wouldn’t hurt him, and the faerie had agreed. What the boy didn’t count on was the other fae killing him.   
“I promise,” Patton responded.  
“Swear it upon-” Virgil hesitated for a moment, trying to decide what would be most precious to the vampire standing outside his door. “Swear it upon Logan’s life.”  
A half beat of silence passed between the two immortals and Virgil until Patton replied. “I swear upon Logan’s life that I will not let any harm come to you while you’re here.” Virgil thought he heard a quiet protest from Logan, but couldn’t be quite sure.  
Virgil hesitated one last time before removing the chair blockade and opening the door, and didn’t expect to be greeted by two people who looked barely older than him holding hands.   
“Hi! I’m Patton, and this is Logan. As you can probably tell, we’re vampires, but it's not like what you hear in your town. Logan is probably better at explaining this than I am, but you really don’t need to be afraid.”  
The other vampire- Logan, he remembered- adjusted his glasses and started speaking. “Indeed. While some of the stories you inevitably have heard are true, take all of what you heard with a metaphorical grain of salt. In addition, many of the stories you have been told about vampires aren’t about us. Everything will become more apparent at dinner, but I can tell you that many of the rumors you heard were about Roman’s father. Roman is not the original vampire in your town’s stories.”   
Virgil stayed quiet, pondering the revelation as Patton and Logan led him down several twisting hallways, and he didn't fail to notice that the two vampires held hands as they walked beside him until they arrived in the dining hall.   
Virgil looked around in awe, something he figured he should get used to doing while in the company of undead immortal creatures. The dining hall seemed like it could have easily fit his entire village in it with room to spare. A long table spanned the entire room, but Virgil counted less than a dozen vampires sitting at the table which could have easily sat a hundred.   
Roman sat at the head of the table and Virgil tried not to make eye contact with anyone. Or was it better to make eye contact? He knew with the fae one should always look them in the eye, and you should never make eye contact with werewolves, but he knew next to nothing about vampires, especially now that he had been told that most of the stories he knew weren’t even accurate, according to Logan.   
When Roman nodded at him, everyone seated looked at Virgil, and he tried not to shrink down into his cloak. Patton and Logan sat down, unbothered with the stares of the other vampires.   
“Here, kiddo. You can sit next to me,” Patton gestured to the seat on his right, thankfully with no one on Virgil’s other side.   
Virgil prepared himself for some kind of bloody meal the vampires would devour, and put his hand over his neck.   
Even if Logan told him most of the stories were false, Virgil knew for a fact they drank blood, and his would probably be next.


	6. Six

Virgil had a terrible feeling about what was going to happen. He knew he should have just stayed barricaded in the room, should have never let Patton convince him to come out, even if Patton seemed like he was sincere.   
“Anything that wasn’t fully human should never be trusted,” Virgil realized and decided to make his new motto. Maybe if he ever got out of the castle with Roman’s head, he might pay someone with the promised reward money to embroider it on a cloak or something.   
Virgil expected some kind of terrible dinner of blood or raw meat that he would wonder where it came from, but when someone entered the dining hall with a cart of food and set a plate in front of Virgil with a smile, he found it wasn’t anything near what he imagined; there were no eyeballs staring back at him from a soup, there wasn’t any blood dripping off the plate- instead it was just… normal food. It was the kind of food he always imagined rich people would eat- a large platter was set in the middle of the table, filled with food Virgil had seen when he stole from the governor and other rich people, but had never actually eaten before. Logan looked at Virgil with a small grin. Virgil just looked away after accidentally making eye contact.   
The food looked amazing, but Virgil didn’t want to make himself stand out anymore than he already did by reaching to get food, because was this little thing called anxiety that bothered Virgil every day.   
“Everyone, this is Virgil,” Roman stood up and gestured to Virgil. “He’s from Governor Duke’s town-“   
Roman stopped talking once someone at the table started laughing. Roman just sighed, as if he were used to it.  
“What’s so funny now, Remus?”  
“Ha! Cousin Dookie kicked out another one! What’d you do, look at him wrong?” a man dressed in green and black, sitting next to Roman asked Virgil.   
“Remus, please. As I was saying, he’s from Governor Duke’s town, who, as you all know, wants to kill us, specifically me. Usually people he sends here are quite murderous, but there is a situation here: seeing as-” Roman was cut off again, this time by Logan.  
“Seeing as Virgil shouldn’t even be considered a criminal due to the poor economy and infrastructure, due largely in part to the Governor’s habitual alcohol importation rather than creating jobs for townsfolk, I believe is an accurate statement.”   
“Okay, Logan, we know you think the economy is a mess, and to be fair, it is, but that is NOT WHAT WE ARE TALKING ABOUT.” Roman sighed.   
Virgil didn’t move under the gaze of the vampires, all watching him as Roman continued.   
“Virgil stole food and gold from the governor, among other people, to help his mother and himself to survive in, as Logan wonderfully interrupted me to call it a ‘poor economy and infrastructure,’ whatever that is.”  
Logan started to explain but was cut off by Roman again. “Shush, Pocket Protector. NOW AS I WAS SAYING, to be brief, the governor’s a bitch.”   
This caused laughter to ripple across the table of undead, and even Virgil couldn’t resist a smirk. He had never heard someone insult the governor so bluntly. Even in the dark corners of alleyways, no one had ever really dared to speak ill of the governor, in fear of being accused of a crime they didn't commit. But even though the governor really was a bitch, Virgil still wanted to go home. And to do that, he had to kill Roman.  
He had to, if he ever wanted to see his mother again. But- were these vampires really that bad? He had been told his whole life that supernatural creatures would kill him as soon as they saw him, but maybe… maybe not everything was as he had been told? After all, they wanted to help him.   
So would it be so bad to not return?


	7. Seven

Three days had passed since Virgil’s first dinner with the undead, and Virgil had actually started talking to people. He had realized that these vampires weren’t as he had been told- no blood had been drunk, no corpses had been dug up and transformed, no demonic rituals had been performed- they were just like people, albeit ones who stayed up all night and were unusually pale. Most surprising of all was his growing friendship with Roman.   
Virgil had been taught all his life that vampires and anything of the sort, like the faeries and werewolves, were evil and would kill him on sight, but Virgi found that those stories just weren’t true.   
Virgil had talked with Roman every day that he was in the castle, learning about the original stories told in his town- Roman’s father.   
“The story you heard about Terrence was only kind of true- yes, he’s a vampire now- you saw him at dinner- but the part about my father Turning him and doing all that murder stuff was mostly false. My father had a policy that I called ‘being a scary bitch.”  
Virgil laughed.   
“Anyway,” Roman grinned. “It was a pact. Terrence knew he was dying, and my father had idiots going into our woods on dumb bets. I bet you can figure out the rest- Terrence turned into a vampire willingly, and my father got the intimidation points. But I think that’s also what helped your hunting punishment start- the governor had always hated anything that wasn’t human, but when the story got out, he us even more for ruining his absolutely perfect town,” Roman said the last bit with the level of sarcasm Virgil could only hope to have one day.   
“So what about you, Virgil? What about your mother and father? Is there anyone… special… at home?” Roman asked the last bit with what Virgil thought was- jealousy? No, he must have imagined that part. Roman was amazing, and charming- and could have anyone he wanted, so why would Roman even look at him unless to get Virgil out of his hair?   
Virgil wanted to stay with Roman, but he also wanted to go back to his mother. What would happen to her if Virgil never came back, never helped her?   
“It’s only been my mother and I for as long as I can remember. I never knew my father, and I don’t have any aunts or uncles. And no- I’ve never liked anyone that way,” Virgil replied, stopping himself from adding ‘not the way I like you’ to the end of his sentence. And it was true- he had found himself seeking Roman every hour the sun was up. It wasn’t that he hadn’t come to like any of the other vampires- no, Patton and Logan were amazing, and he had become, well, he wouldn’t say friends, exactly, with the other vampires, but Virgil had grown close to the group. What did Roman say the ‘official’ name of a vampire group was? That’s right- Virgil had grown fairly close to the coven in such a short amount of time.   
And Virgil had also learned quite a lot- tricks and other things that no one in his village would know, like the faeries had a sense of humor and the naiads loved stories from land. Roman had shown Virgil that not everything he had been told about the magical creatures were true- far from it, in fact; Roman had shown him that the magic could be beautiful.   
And Virgil realized that he might have started to like Roman as maybe just a bit more than a friend.   
But of course, Roman would never feel the same. Roman was an immortal vampire, who could snap the necks of hunters without breaking a sweat, while Virgil was just- himself. There was nothing special about him! He couldn’t even speak in a crowd without succumbing to his own social anxiety!   
“Did you hear me?” Roman asked, shaking Virgil out of his thoughts.  
“What?” Virgil asked, because he was definitely not thinking about how muscular Roman was under his white tunic.   
“I asked if maybe you’d like to go to the gardens with me tonight? I know you sleep at night but I- I’d like to show the gardens to you in the proper moonlight,” Roman asked.   
“I- yeah, of course,” Virgil replied, trying to fight the light pink blush climbing up his face.   
“Great!” Roman smiled, standing up from the couch they’d at on in Roman’s room, offering a hand to help Virgil up.   
“Meet me here after dinner?” Roman asked, taking Virgil by the hand.   
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be here,” Virgil replied, not failing to notice how close they were.   
Roman put his arm around Virgil’s shoulder. “I know it's scary. We’re scary,” he laughed. “I mean, we do need blood to survive. But I really hope we can figure something out with your mother. I know you want to go home.”  
Virgil started to doubt that he actually wanted to leave the castle now.   
There was magic, he had found friends, and even Roman seemed to like him, albeit as a friend.   
So did Virgil really want to go back to his town where he always felt out of place? Maybe he could sneak into his house and give his mother enough money to pay for everything. Yes, that would do!


	8. Eight

Virgil hadn’t felt simultaneously calm and anxious about anything. Except for what would happen when he met Roman in the gardens.   
It sounded like a date, didn't it?  
But Virgil tended to overthink things, and that was probably what he was doing now- and now he was overthinking about overthinking-!  
Virgil needed to calm down.   
He walked to the trunk at the foot of his bed, which contained borrowed shirts from Logan, debating what he should wear.   
What did people normally wear on dates? Was it even a date? Virgil was sure Roman only liked him as a friend, but what if he didn’t? What would Virgil do then? Virgil heard a knock on his door.   
“Who is it?” He asked, not quite out of the defensive habit he had.   
“Hey, kiddo! It’s Patton! May I come in?”  
“Uh, yeah,” Virgil replied. He found that he quite liked Patton, who had quickly established himself as essentially the father of the coven, even though Roman was the actual leader.  
“So,” Patton laughed. “Roman told me about how he invited you to the gardens!”  
Virgil’s face turned hot. “Yeah. Yeah, he did.”  
Patton laughed. “Oh, you like him, too! This is wonderful! You two are very cute!”  
Virgil didn’t know how it was possible for his face to turn even more red, but it did.   
“It’s like another son!” Patton grinned. Virgil couldn’t help but to look at Patton’s fangs, a habit he constantly found himself doing anytime a vampire opened their mouth.   
One thought had been nagging Virgil for a while, however. “Isn’t Roman like, hundreds of years old?”  
“Oh! This is where it gets a little weird. Logan is probably better at explaining it, but basically, you’ve probably heard that vampires can only be made by a human getting bit by a vampire?”  
Virgil nodded.  
“Well, that’s actually not true. I don’t know the actual process, but vampire babies can be created! I don’t know how it works, but I remember Roman was a very adorable baby!”  
Virgil tried to hold back a smile. He was pretty sure he knew exactly how children were created, but he found it inexplicably funny that Patton had no idea how babies worked.   
“Roman was born about the same time you were. So if age was something you were worried about, you don’t have to be.”  
Virgil nodded. “but what happened to his parents?” He asked.  
Patton’s smile fell.   
“It’s a really sad story. It’s not really mine to tell, but you should know that they were killed. And when they died, Roman became the leader of the coven. It’s another thing Logan knows more about than me. Vampire politics. It’s really quite a confusing subject, as a lot of things are. Like math. Math is really confusing. But if a leader dies and they didn’t have any kids, all of the fledglings they’ve sired get to fight it out for who becomes leader. You really, really don’t want to start talking about vampire politics, kiddo. But I guess if you do, go talk to Logan.”  
“You really like him, don’t you? Logan, I mean. You both seem so different, but like, you’ve been married for- how long?” Virgil asked, genuinely curious as to how a vampire who obviously looked like he didn’t have time for emotions and would have rather spent his days working and and one who, ironically, seemed like a walking ball of sunshine would have fallen in love, let alone even talked to each other.  
“Ninety eight years! Some of the best years of my life!” Patton smiled brightly, and Virgil once again found his eyes drifting towards the fangs.   
“We met when I got Turned. I don’t really like talking about how I became a vampire, because it’s- it’s really sad. There was a fire, and I lost my whole family. Roman’s father found me, while I was stumbling through this forest, too weak to do anything. I had breathed in a lot of smoke and I was almost entirely burned that day, and I knew I was going to die. He saved me, gave me a choice. I could either die and stay human, or become a vampire. I didn’t want to die, so I picked the second option. I’m so glad I did, because otherwise, I would have never met Logan, or Roman, or you, or any of the other friends I have!”  
“Logan and I didn’t really get along at first, but I had decided that we were at least going to be friends, if nothing else. Logan was the one that helped me adjust. You know, from going out in the sun, to being burnt to ash if we stay outside too long, these giant fangs,” Patton opened his mouth wide, and Virgil saw that they were much larger than he thought they would be, having caught only glimpses from when one of the vampires smiled. He had avoided watching them eat, and he told himself it was because it would have been rude to stare, but he was really just terrified of what the vampires would look like when they ate.  
“Oh! Look at the time!” Patton glanced out the window. “Go meet Roman! It’s time for your date!”  
“It’s not a- I mean, not really- we’re just-“ Virgil attempted to protest.   
“Okay, kiddo. Whatever you say!” Patton laughed. 

When Virgil stepped into the courtyard housing the gardens, he didn’t expect it to be so beautiful. Flowers of every color grew on bushes decorating the many gravel pathways. The crunch of the gravel alerted Virgil that someone was walking toward him.   
“Good evening, Virgil,” Roman smiled.   
“Good evening, Princey.”  
“Princey?” Roman laughed.  
“Well yeah, have you seen what you’re wearing?” Virgil gestured to Roman’s outfit of a white silken tunic and red sash. “I’m surprised you don’t have a little crown!”  
“Says the creepy cookie.”  
They laughed as they walked, trading banter and nicknames.   
“Here’s what I wanted to show you,” Roman pointed to white flower buds growing on a huge oak tree. “Watch.”  
Virgil watched as the buds began to move, unfurling into beautiful white and purple flowers.   
“They’re moon flowers. They only bloom at night.”  
“They’re beautiful,” Virgil whispered in awe.  
“Just like me,” Roman smiled.   
“You might be, if you get your head out of your butt.”  
Roman fake-gasped. “Oh, you wound me! I’m hurt! Stormcloud, you have killed me! I’ve been backstabbed!”  
“I’ll visit your grave, Sir Sing-a-lot.”  
Virgil could have sworn that Roman’s hand brushed against his, Roman’s skin the same temperature of the surrounding night air. Virgil involuntarily shivered.   
Roman put his arm around Virgil’s shoulders as they watched the flowers blooming, their sweet scent filling the night air. Virgil found himself leaning into Roman, the absence of a heart beat barely noticeable.   
“Virgil, I-“ Roman was cut off by someone shouting his name. Virgil looked around in alarm and spotted someone running towards them. It was Logan.   
Roman started running toward the other vampire, but stopped short when he caught sight of another shape in the distance, chasing after Logan.   
Roman reached for his belt where he kept a sword and continued running toward Logan, his blade unsheathed.   
Logan finally reached Roman but didn’t stop, instead running toward where Virgil stood, frozen in the same spot by the flowers.   
“Virgil- Virgil, you need to run-“ Logan gasped.  
“What?” Was all Virgil could say.   
“Virgil, he’s here, it’s not safe-“  
Virgil put his hands on Logan’s shoulders, wanting answers. But Virgil’s hand became wet with sticky, red blood before he could ask anymore questions. He gasped, starting to ask Logan what happened before a giant creature crashed into him.   
The last thing he heard was Roman and Logan screaming his name before he blacked out.


	9. Nine

Virgil opened his eyes to Logan stumbling and half carrying, half dragging Virgil back into the castle.   
“Virgil, are you able to stand?” Logan asked him, his voice hoarse.   
“Y- yeah. I can walk,” Virgil replied, only telling a small lie. Every breath he took hurt, every time he coughed he felt like a knife was being twisted again and again into his chest.   
Three figures came running out of the castle gates.   
“Lo!” Patton shouted, running towards Logan. “Lo, you’re hurt! Virgil, what happened? Where’s Roman?” Patton frantically asked them.   
“I’m fine. Roman’s back there, fighting him.” Logan replied. Virgil couldn’t stop wondering: who was ‘he’? Why was everyone freaking out? And- and what was Roman doing?  
The other two vampires, whom Virgil recognized as Remy and Emile, each pulled out a sword.   
“We’re going to go help Roman. Patton, you make sure everyone is safe.” Emile said as he and Remy ran off to join the fight.   
“Come on, get inside,” Patton told them, helping Virgil and Logan into the gates and up the stairs.   
“Valerie, find bandages and get Terrence to help me!” Patton shouted at a vampire who had stepped out of her room, looking around no doubt trying to find the source of all the yelling. She took one look at Logan’s bloodied shirt and rushed off, doing as Patton instructed.   
“Logan, just keep breathing,” Patton whispered. “I love you… I love you so much…” Virgil could have sworn he saw tears rolling down Patton’s cheeks.   
Patton helped them both onto a couch in one of the many rooms of the castle. Now, in the dim candlelight, Virgil could see Logan’s blood was a deep red, darker than any human blood. It stained his torn shirt, three long gashes running down his torso. What had happened to him, that made his flesh torn, his dark blood staining the blue velvet sofa?   
Virgil closed his eyes, and when he opened them, out the window he could see that the moon hung low over the horizon. Valerie and Patton had moved Logan to the bed where they tended to the long wounds on his chest.   
“Oh, you’re awake,” Patton walked over to him with tears in his eyes.   
“How’s Logan?” Virgil stuttered.   
“He’s- he’s not great,” Patton started to cry.   
“I’m so sorry, this is my fault-“  
“No, no, kiddo. It wasn’t your fault. He just- he hates us, he hates Logan- oh! I probably said too much already…” Patton started to cry. “I’m sorry…”  
“Patton, you don’t need to be sorry. Who’s ‘he’? Why- did he do this?” Virgil asked, wanting answers. Patton hesitated.   
“He’s a skinwalker.” Valerie spoke up. “He can transform into animals,” she elaborated after Virgil’s look of confusion.  
“When Roman’s father built this castle, he drove him out to claim the land. Ever since that, he’s been trying to take it back,” Valerie told him.   
“But what’s his name?” Virgil wanted something to call him.   
“We don’t know his real name, so we just call him Deceit. Names have power, you know. Especially ageist magic-users.”   
Realizing that was all the information Virgil would get, he laid back down on the couch and looked out the window at the moon slowly setting on the horizon. He could just make out the shape of an owl, or perhaps a bat, flying right toward the window.   
He watched the animal for a moment before it began to grow. Not becoming larger as it neared the castle, but physically growing in size.   
Virgil started to shout a warning to Patton and Valerie, who had stood back up to watch over Logan, but by then it was too late.   
The animal, no longer a bird, crashed through the window, transforming into a human wearing a black cloak and hat.   
Valerie and Patton shrieked at the sight of him. He ran towards where Logan lay unconscious. Patton grabbed the man’s raised arm in an attempt to stop his clawed hands from reaching down to Logan’s throat and cutting it, more deep red blood spilling on the silken covers. Patton grabbed the silver candle holder that sat on the table and tried to hit him with it, but the man only tossed Patton aside as if he were a child’s toy into the wall. Valerie had backed up onto the corner, her eyes wild with fear.   
Virgil tried to stand, but found himself frozen.   
The man- he must be Deceit, Virgil realized, reached out with a clawed hand toward Virgil, who could do nothing except stare in fear at the man with half a snake’s face and two different colored eyes, both glowing a faint yellow.   
Virgil got pulled up to his feet, and Deceit held a claw up to his throat. The claws grew from the first knuckle on his finger and grew longer than his fingertips, ending in a wickedly sharp point that dripped with blood so red it seemed almost black.   
“You will do as I say, or else you will die,” he hissed in Virgil’s ear. “Do not speak.”  
Deceit dragged Virgil out of the door, not realizing Valerie still stood in the corner by where Patton had fallen. The claws extending from Deceit’s fingers pierced his skin, tiny droplets of red staining Virgil’s shirt. Virgil’s breathing quickened. What would happen to him? What was Deceit going to do? What had happened to Roman? To Remy and Emile? Were they already dead? Virgil hoped they weren’t- they were too kind to him, much kinder than Virgil deserved.   
Deceit stopped in front of the crowd that had gathered. The whole coven, all of them, were standing with weapons in front of them.   
Roman stood at the front, his sword pointed at Deceit. Remus stood next to him, a spiked morningstar in his hands. Talyn and Joan both held knives, most likely taken from the kitchen, Remy and Emile stood behind Roman, their swords at the ready. Behind them stood Terrence, a bow drawn and knocked with a silver tipped arrow pointing at Deceit.   
“Put down your weapons,” Deceit said. “Put them down.” His claws dug deeper into Virgil’s skin. Virgil tried to get away, but Deceit’s grip only grew stronger. It became hard to breathe, Virgil’s back pressed against Deceit’s chest, claws wrapped around his throat.   
Virgil could see now the cloak was made of animal skins, hundreds of different types of fur and feathers woven into it. Was the cloak what gave Deceit such an ability to shapeshift?  
It was funny how Virgil concentrated on identifying the animal furs and feathers instead of the claws at his throat, how he was somehow unafraid that he would die. Virgil wasn’t a vampire, so what use would Deceit have in killing him? No, Virgil was only a bargaining chip to be used against the coven.   
But- what if Roman let him die? What if Roman really didn’t care about him more than he cared about his father’s castle and the land it sat on? Only when that thought crossed his mind did VIrgil begin to become fearful.   
“I said, put down your weapons,” Deceit repeated. “Or else he dies.” The claws scratched Virgil’s throat again, spilling more blood.   
Roman locked eyes with Virgil and slowly set his sword down, the rest of the coven following except for Terrence, who kept his bow drawn and aimed at Deceit. The claws slowly retracted from Virgil’s neck, but the grip still remained.   
“Good. Now you will leave this land, and never come back to it. You will leave nothing of your kind behind to defend it, and you will leave immediately.” Deceit ordered.   
“You only want to come back to this place to grow more powerful, don't you? To grow your power and claim more lives of innocent people,” Roman glared.   
“It is not your concern what I want. You will do as I say, or else the boy dies.”  
Roman said nothing in reply, only glared at Deceit.   
“No? Fine.” Deceit spat. Before anyone could react, the claws slashed through Virgil’s skin,blood spilling out. Deceit stepped back and swept his cloak around himself and let Virgil fall. Where Deceit stood, an owl now tried to fly down the hall. Terrence shot the arrow, grazing the huge black wing. The owl stumbled in the air, but kept flying, a screech echoing through the hall.   
Roman dashed toward Virgil, crouching beside him.   
“Virgil! Virgil, I’m so sorry…”   
“R-Roman. Roman, I don't want to die… I don't want to die…!” Virgil sobbed, coughing on the thick red liquid trailing down his neck. He had not been afraid of dying before, but now, at death’s door, Virgil was terrified.   
“Virgil, I can help you, do you want to live?” Roman asked him frantically.  
“Y-yes! Help- help me…”   
“Then open your mouth. You need to drink.” Roman picked up his sword and cut his own arm, putting it against Virgil’s mouth. “Drink, Virgil.”   
He did as he was told, the salty stuff washing over his mouth.   
More, I need more, he thought, never wanting to stop.   
“Virgil, listen to me,” Roman said as Virgil drank. “I need you to remember that I’m very sorry about this part.”  
Roman took Virgil’s head in his hands, stopping Virgil from drinking the blood, and looked into his eyes. “I’m sorry,” Roman said as he twisted Virgil’s neck with a snap.   
Virgil’s frantic breaths stopped, his chest ceasing to move.   
“Talyn, you know what to do.”  
Talyn nodded and started to lift Virgil’s body.   
“Do it before the sun rises.” Roman commanded, looking out the window.


	10. Ten

The only light in the graveyard was that of the slowly setting moon.   
How had so much changed in a short period of time?   
Just an hour earlier, Logan and Virgil were both alive.   
An hour earlier, it was on course to be one of the best days of Roman’s life.   
An hour earlier, Roman had wanted to kiss Virgil, tell him how beautiful he looked in the light of the moon, watching as the flowers bloomed.   
The taste of Virgil’s blood still lingered in Roman’s mouth, the coppery tang of it sticking to his tongue. Roman stood by the grave they had dug for Virgil, his body being lowered into the earth. He took one last look at Virgil, his skin pale, eyes wide and dilated, his mouth open as if in surprise, before he knelt into the grass and helped the rest of his coven cover the body with soil, the dirt covering Virgil’s pale face, paler than any of the vampires. “Wait,” Roman stopped the rest of the coven from continuing to cover Virgil. “Close his eyes.”  
Roman reached into the grave- could it even be called that?- to close Virgil’s eyes to make it look as if he was sleeping. Roman also knew that closing his eyes would make the next step a slightly less horrible experience for him- not that the next step wasn’t unpleasant.   
“Okay,” Roman said as he climbed out. “Cover him.”  
The vampires continued to take handfuls of dirt and started to throw it back into the grave, every handful bringing back a memory of Virgil- a fully human, living and breathing Virgil. When Virgil first arrived, fearful and angry, ready to kill him. The moment when Roman realized he was in love- when they had sat together, talking about Virgil’s home, about Roman’s parents. And when Roman has finally worked up the courage to ask Virgil out to the gardens, right before everything had gone so wrong.   
When Virgil was finally covered, the mound of loose dirt covering his corpse, Roman stepped back. The only thing left to do was wait and hope.   
It seemed like hours, an eternity, before anyone spoke.   
“He’s moving,” Joan said.   
Sure enough, Roman saw the loose soil shaking. The air suddenly became cold, the grass around where Virgil had been buried becoming covered in frost. The cold have Roman hope that Virgil would succeed.   
“Come on, Virgil. Come on. Please,” Roman said to himself.

***********

Everything was dark. He couldn’t breathe. When he opened his mouth, he choked on the mud.   
He had to get out, had to eat! He clawed at the dirt, digging towards the surface. He was hungry, so hungry… the dirt clung to his hands, getting under his nails, in his eyes, blocking his throat.   
He had begun to give up, fearing that he would never reach the surface. The only thing that forced him to continue was the hunger he felt. He needed to eat, and wouldn’t- couldn’t- stop until it was fulfilled.   
He soon found he didn’t have to breathe, he could just- exist. It was as if he was holding his breath underwater, but never needing to come up for air.   
He kept digging upwards, to the surface. his hand suddenly reached the grass, and he pulled himself upwards. It had felt a thousand years since he felt the wind, the cool air on his face.  
Virgil gasped as he finally lay on the grass, dirt still clinging to his skin. He saw Roman running towards him with a wineskin in his hand.   
“Virgil, oh gods-” Roman knelt, helping Virgil stand.   
“Don’t touch me,” Virgil hissed. “You- you hurt me-”  
“Virgil, you need to drink,” Roman handed Virgil the wineskin, careful not to spill any of the liquid inside.   
Virgil’s hands shook as he raised it to his lips, the thick, salty red liquid dripping down his chin, staining his lips. He needed more, needed to keep drinking. The hunger had finally lessened, but he needed more. Virgil kept drinking until it was empty. Roman tried to take the wineskin from him, but Virgil gripped it closer to his chest, hissing at Roman again. Virgil became aware of the coven circled around them watching as Virgil attempted to get more of the liquid out of the wineskin.   
“Virgil, Virgil! Listen to me. You need to control it,” Roman cried to him.   
“I need more” Virgil rasped.   
“Virgil,” Roman started to put his hand on Virgil’s cheek, but Virgil jerked away from him, hissing again. He started to stand, his vision fading in and out of black, the blurry shapes giving him a headache. He tried to walk somewhere, anywhere that was away from Roman. He stumbled, and someone’s hands caught him.  
“Hey, kiddo. I need you to listen to me, okay? Look at me,” Virgil looked at the speaker, recognition in his eyes.   
“P-Patton?”   
“Yeah, it’s me. Breathe in, and breathe out. You’re safe.”  
Virgil forced himself to take a breath, in and out. He started to calm, and looked at Patton in disbelief.  
“Kiddo, can you talk?” Patton asked.   
“Y-yes-“ Virgil paused. Something wasn’t right in his mouth, he realized as he spoke with a lisp. He brought a hand still covered in dirt up to his mouth and recoiled as he found his canines had lengthened to a sharp point- fangs.   
“A-am I one of you now? What happened?”   
Patton hesitated. “Yes,” he said in a whisper. “It was the only way to save you. What do you remember?”  
Virgil could only recall short instances- he knew there was blood, he knew there was a knife, a man with scales on his face, he knew Roman had done something to him, and he knew-   
“What happened to Logan?”  
Patton looked away, not quite hiding the tears that rolled down his face.  
“He- he didn't make it..”   
Virgil didn’t know what he should say. Was Logan’s death his fault? He knew he was in the room where it happened, he could have helped Logan!  
“I-I’m sorry, I should have helped-“   
“No, no. Kiddo… it wasn’t your fault. There wasn’t anything that could have been done,” Patton didn't try to hide the tears streaming down his face anymore.   
“Patton, Virgil, you need to come inside,” Emile walked up to them, taking both gently by the arm and leading them inside the gates.   
Virgil looked at the sky, which had lightened to a pastel pink. It was too bright, too much light- he squinted and looked away, overcome with fatigue. Virgil saw Roman staring at him with an expression Virgil couldn’t quite place.   
Patton walked into his room, pausing in the doorway.   
“Come on, Virgil. You’re going to need to sleep,” Emile told him, leading Virgil to his room.   
Virgil didn't remember anything after he laid down and closed his eyes, finally drifting off to sleep as the sun rose.


	11. Eleven

Virgil woke with the worst headache he had ever experienced. He remembered one time when he was about ten years old, he had fallen out of a tree and hurt his head. That injury was nothing compared to this- it hurt to open his eyes, to move… but he forced himself to lift his head from where he lay on the pillows, propping himself up on his elbows.   
He blinked rapidly a few times, his vision blurry. A figure in red sat on the sofa next to the bed.  
“R-Roman?” Virgil groaned. “What happened?” Virgil wishes what he remembered had been only a dream, that none of what occurred last night- or was it this morning?- had actually happened.   
“Virgil,” Roman grinned, “you’re awake!” Roman moves to sit in the bed next to where Virgil lay.   
“What happened? Please tell me I was just dreaming.”  
“Ah, well… it’s a little complicated. If you open your mouth-“  
Virgil touched his teeth, which he now realized had grown into fangs.  
“What did you do to me!?” Virgil shouted, his throat aching.  
“I- I had to do it. It was the only way I could save you. I’m sorry.” Roman lowered his gaze.   
“Why? Why would you do this? I only remember I said that I didn’t want to die, but… why did you save me?” Virgil asked.  
“Because- because I love you, Virgil. I know I’ve only known you for a short time, but now that I know you, I can’t imagine my life without you. I couldn’t live with myself if I let you die when there was something I could do to help you. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but-“  
Roman was cut off by Virgil’s lips on his.   
“You talk too much, Princey,” Virgil smirked as their lips parted.  
Roman didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at Virgil with a grin.   
“So I guess you do feel the same way, Stormcloud?”  
“Yeah. Now teach me what the hell I'm supposed to do with these things,” Virgil gestured to his newly acquired fangs. “Please don’t tell me I need to do something sexy in order to be a real vampire,” Virgil raised an eyebrow.   
“No, that’s my job,” Roman laughed.   
“Haha. Look how hard I’m laughing. But really- do I need to know about anything else that, er, changed? Also I would like to know what, exactly, the fuck happened.”  
“Yeah, about that,” Roman cringed. “So the whole transformation thing you went through, that takes a lot of energy. Logan is- was- studying what happens during the turning.”  
“I’m sorry,” Virgil said. He never knew what to do when people cried. “I should have helped him.”  
“No, it wasn’t your fault.” Roman shook his head. Patton has told him that before, but Virgil didn’t quite believe it. He could have helped stop Deceit, could have stopped Logan from dying.  
“He and Patton were like fathers to me. They practically raised me, even before my parents died. I- I’m not sure what I should do without Logan,” Roman leaned against the headboard of the bed and sighed.   
“Roman… I’ve never been good at stuff like this but- I just want to say that I’m sorry, and- and don't let what happened to Logan distract you from what you still have. You still have Patton, and the rest of the coven-“  
“And I have you,” Roman smiled sadly, moving his arm around Virgil’s shoulders.   
Virgil grinned. If someone had told him a week ago that he would fall in love with a vampire, have a knife held to his throat, die, become a vampire, and then kiss said vampire he was in love with, Virgil would have assumed they had eaten some faerie fruit, because he never would have believed them. But here he was, leaning his head on Roman’s chest.   
There was no heartbeat, Virgil realized again. He put a hand up to his own chest, trying to find a pulse. Nothing. He placed two fingers over his neck, and again, nothing. He even searched for the spot on his wrist, and again, there was no pulse.   
“I-I’m really dead, aren’t I?” Virgil whispered.   
“I can’t speak for everyone, but you get used to it,” Roman said. “I know it’s weird for you. I was born like this,” Roman waved at himself and continued. “Being born a vampire is different from being Turned. Logan- he was studying the changes that take place when people get Turned. I never understood most of what he said, but… I know you’ll get used to it. I think the only differences you’ll really notice are the obvious ones: no heartbeat, fangs, and the whole blood thing. Also, you’re going to be really tired for the next few days.”  
“Thank you,” Virgil closed his eyes, sure enough becoming drowsy again, though he didn’t fail to notice that his head still rested on Roman’s chest and that Roman’s arm still rested on Virgil’s shoulders.   
He closed his eyes and went to sleep, but not before reaching up to kiss Roman on the cheek and smile at Roman’s grin.


	12. Twelve

Virgil had, albeit reluctantly, gotten out of bed around midnight- which he supposed was now the vampire equivalent to sleeping until noon- to follow Roman to the dining hall. He found himself more sensitive to the smells of the castle- before, he smelled only the stone. But now, he could smell so much more- the wet, musty scent of moss growing on the walls; a faded, leaflike smell coming from the wood that made up the tables of the dining hall; but the worst scent came from the the food itself- there was too much of it all: too many smells coming from one place- he stopped at the entrance of the hall.  
“Virgil!” Roman’s voice snapped Virgil out of his thoughts. “You need to focus on one thing, or else you’ll get overwhelmed. I find it easiest to focus on other vampires.”   
Virgil nodded, closing his eyes and inhaling. Beneath the layers of unpleasant smells, Virgil found Roman’s- he smelled like metal and flowers, the metal probably coming from the sword Roman always had swathed at his hip, and the flowers perhaps left over from their walk in the garden. But knowing Roman, he probably took long and dramatic walks for fun.   
“Better?” Roman asked after a minute of silence passed between the two.   
“Better,” Virgil nodded. “But I’m hungry. Really, really hungry.”   
“Makes sense. Let’s go eat then, shall we?” Roman offered his arm to Virgil and escorted him through the entryway as if they were dancing partners. Roman, as always, sat at the head of the table, with his brother, Remus, on the left. Virgil went to sit toward where he was last time, but Roman motioned for Virgil to sit on his right.   
Next to him, again, was Patton, who looked much sadder than the last time they sat next to each other.   
Virgil didn't know what to say to him- Patton barely seemed to notice that Virgil was there. Patton just stared down at his lap, picking at the loose threads of his gray cardigan. Virgil put his hand on Patton’s.   
“L- oh, hi Virgil!” Patton smiled, but it wasn’t real.   
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Virgil asked.  
“No, it’s fine. I’m fine,” Patton started, although it sounded as if he was trying to convince himself more than Virgil.   
“Patton… I’m sorry. I should have done more to help-“  
“Stop it!” Patton cried in a whisper, only barely audible to Virgil. “I don’t want to talk about him. I can’t…”   
Virgil solemnly nodded and turned his head away from Patton. Despite what everyone told him, Virgil couldn’t help but blame himself. Patton and Logan had seemed so in love, like they couldn’t be apart. But now, because Virgil had done nothing when he had a chance to help, Patton was suffering this loss of someone he loved that Virgil could have prevented. He knew what it felt like to lose someone close to him- the numbness that came first, with the denial that they were truly gone. Then it was the pain for knowing that you would never see them again, never hear them laugh or feel their touch. And the worst part was that nothing could be done about it. No amount of crying could bring them back.   
When Virgil was younger, his father had gotten sick and died from the disease. Virgli had blamed himself then, for not working harder for medicine, for not helping his father get better, for not persuading the doctor to help.   
Even when the food came, Virgil couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened to Logan. He might have been overthinking it, or some people might have told him that he was dwelling too much on the past, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was his fault.   
Trying to stop thinking about Patton and Logan, Virgil attempted to focus on his heightened senses. He could taste the iron in the food, the same coppery tang as the blood he only vaguely remembered drinking.   
Normally, if he had tasted the copper in the food, he would have been disgusted. But now, with his fangs, he found he couldn’t get enough of it. Ignoring anyone who might have been watching him, Virgil continued to eat, oblivious of the conversations happening around him. Before he knew it, he had cleared his plate, only focusing back at the coven when Roman nudged him and whispered, “There’s dessert if you want it.”  
Virgil perked up. Even though he had eaten what seemed like a huge meal, he was still starving.   
Roman opened his mouth to say something, but Virgil waved him off. “I know, I know. It’s going to be like this for a while until I get used to it.”  
“Exactly,” Roman replied, passing Virgil a slice of cake, which he greedily accepted.


	13. Thirteen

_Virgil ran through the woods, not daring to stop and take a breath. He knew someone- no, something, was chasing him, hunting him. The only light was that of the moon, a small sliver in the sky, blocked out by the towering tree limbs. The dead branches snapped underfoot as Virgil continued to run, trying in vain to get away from his pursuer, stumbling over roots, his cloak snagging on thorns, and slipping on the fallen leaves that littered the dirt. He leapt over a stream, sliding on the wet rocks into mud that squelched beneath his feet, sticking to his pants. He pulled himself free of the mud and back onto his feet, and_ _continued to run, his shoes sticking to the ground. He didn’t waste time to look behind him, but Virgil knew Deceit was close. His heart pounded and he told himself to run- run, because it was the only thing that would save him from death. Virgil tripped and fell onto the wet ground. When he looked behind_ _him to see what obstacle had made him fall, Virgil stared at the body. Logan. His throat had been ripped out, revealing bloody insides, lifeless eyes staring back at Virgil, seeming to follow his movement. Logan’s mouth was agape in a silent scream. Virgil attempted to get on his feet again but his shouts came out strangled as claws wrapped around his throat, the blood spilling out onto the ground. Virgil tried to fight back as the blood continued to run in rivers down_ _his neck, staining his clothes, and stared in horror as Deceit’s face slowly morphed into Roman’s. “You killed him! How could you?” Roman shouted at him, pushing Virgil to the ground._   
But the screaming didn’t stop as he woke up, throwing the blankets aside, gasping for air even though he didn’t really need to breathe. Roman sat up next to him and reached out to touch Virgil’s shoulder, blinking to adjust his eyes to the light in the room. Though large curtains covered the windows, some sunlight still filtered in- not enough to burn the vampires, but still enough that it made it difficult for them to see. “Vee, I’m here. You’re safe. It’s okay,” Roman whispered. Virgil leaned into Roman’s hug. “I'm sorry.” “What for? You don’t need to apologize.” Virgil just shook his head silently. “Do you want to talk about it?” Virgil shook his head again, messy hair falling into his eyes. But dispite his efforts, after another moment he was telling Roman everything. “He- Deceit- he was chasing me again, and I couldn’t get away. And Logan-“ Virgil leaned on Roman’s shoulder and started to cry. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” “You don’t have to be sorry, Virgil. I don’t blame you, and I never will.” “You should, so why don’t you?” Roman paused for a moment before he replied, “because I love you, Virge.” Virgil scooted even closer to Roman and put his arms around Roman’s waist. “I think I love you, too, Roman.” Roman planted a kiss on Virgil’s forehead before laying back down, Virgil still cuddled close. “C’mon, Stormcloud, go back to sleep,” Roman whispered in Virgil’s ear. *** When Virgil woke again, this time calmly yawing, the nightmare having been forgotten, he found himself with his face pressed into Roman’s chest and arms wrapped around the other vampire’s torso. Roman’s left hand was tangled in Virgil’s hair while his right was wrapped around his waist. It was moments like these when Virgil felt safest, next to Roman. Virgil lay there, happy for once that all of the choices he had ever made had led him here, with Roman. Virgil smiled to himself as he realized how sappy he was being. “Hey, Ro,” Virgil whispered before softly kissing Roman. Virgil never failed to notice how soft Roman’s lips were. Roman stirred as Virgil pulled their lips apart and smiled. “Hey, Stormcloud. Sleep well?” Roman asked as he ran his hand through Virgil’s hair, smiling to reveal fangs Virgil had once been terrified of but now loved. Although the perks of being one of the undead were many- heightened senses, increased speed and strength, and no body odor being among several that Virgil enjoyed- hair never becoming tangled was not one of them, and Virgil would have blushed if he was able to every time Roman’s fingers undid a knot in his newly purple dyed hair. In an effort to get to know him better (and possibly make up for terrifying Virgil upon their first meeting), Talyn had helped Virgil add color to his hair with a plant-based formula they had perfected over several decades of attempting to make their own hair unnatural colors. “It brings to mind a field of Lavenders.~” Roman had said upon seeing the end product. He saw Virgil look down, embarrassed and continued, “through which has rampaged a wild boar.” Virgil looked up with an amused sort of glare as Talyn laughed. But he was quick to respond, “at least mine doesn’t look like the wild boar itself.” In response to Roman’s question of how he slept, Virgil gave a wide yawn. Even though vampires didn’t technically need to breathe, Virgil still found himself yawning occasionally. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Roman laughed. “Want to go get breakfast?” “Not really. I want to stay here for a bit. With you.” “As you wish, my dear,” Roman said jokingly, but it still made Virgil want to curl under a blanket out of embarrassment, or perhaps spite that Roman was being so romantic towards him. “Stars, Princey. One of these days you’re going to be so soft, I’ll be running this place instead of you.” Roman scoffed. “Fat chance. You couldn’t handle that crowd for a day.” “Okay, but I can already hug you into doing anything.” “No you can’t, impossible!” “Sit up for a minute,” Virgil said, smirking as Roman did so. Roman, a moment later, realized that he had, in fact, done exactly as Virgil told him. “You fiend! Backstabber! I’ve been betrayed! My heart has been broken beyond repair!” Roman cried as he flopped back down. “I told you so,” Virgil laughed as Roman groaned. “I suppose we must go down to announce the change in leadership, then?” “Nope. As the new leader, my first command is that you stay right here with me,” Virgil smiled. “Oh, if I must.” “My second command is that you stop being so dramatic.” “Is there anything else the leader wishes?” “Yeah, one more thing. Kiss me?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Virgil was surprised at himself. When had he become so smooth? Virgil had just finished his sentence when Roman’s lips were on his. Virgil closed his eyes and leaned into Roman, putting his arms around him. Although the two of them had kissed before, Virgil never got tired of it. They could have never stopped, as those who are dead don’t breathe, had it not been for Roman starting to laugh. They broke apart, Roman still chuckling. “So first you take over my leadership job, and now you take over my job to make you swoon? Will the betrayal ever cease?” Virgil shrugged. “You can have the swooning job back, I suppose. I don’t think I’ve quite mastered the art yet.” “Oh, don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of time to learn,” Roman smiled. “I love you, Virgil.” Virgil didn’t hesitate. “I love you, too.”


End file.
